


two acts to discover a pattern

by akc



Category: Persona 2
Genre: Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Canon, Sleepwalking, lisa and eikichi are there, they have popsicles. other summer things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 13:41:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20154523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akc/pseuds/akc
Summary: The first time Tatsuya sleepwalked, Jun woke up to the sound of a very loud and comical crashing noise coming from what could only be the kitchen.





	two acts to discover a pattern

**Author's Note:**

> this is intended to be post-EP; I tried to make the state of everyone's memories vague so that it's up to the reader on who remembers what and etc

Tatsuya sleepwalks. Jun watches. 

It only happens after long and tiring days, so there is at least some way to predict when it’s going to happen. It also seems to happen more frequently on rainy nights. Jun has made these types of observations and written them down in a little notebook with the Cepheus constellation on the cover; sometimes Tatsuya asks to read them.

The first time Tatsuya sleepwalked, Jun woke up to the sound of a very loud and comical crashing noise coming from what could only be the kitchen. When he had ran out of the bedroom with a wrench in hand (just in case, of course) to find Tatsuya standing, eyes glazed over, in front of a pile of smashed dishes, all Jun could do was laugh.

He had hauled then Tatsuya back to the bedroom as quickly as he could before Katsuya could see anything. He would come barreling into the kitchen all flummoxed, no doubt, and Jun didn’t want to see that so late at night.

The second time Tatsuya sleepwalked, no loud crashing noises were involved. Jun hadn’t fallen asleep yet, which was a common thing. It has always been rather difficult for him to fall asleep (for one reason or another), and although it wasn’t necessarily  _ bad _ , it was just—frustrating. It was frustrating. 

Tatsuya, on the other hand, starts snoring the moment his head touches the pillow.

This time, Jun was reading something when Tatsuya had gotten out of bed, standing up with perfect posture and moving in an almost robotic fashion. It was a little unnerving to watch at first, because it was so  _ not  _ Tatsuya.

Instead of immediately laying him back down like he knew he should try to do, Jun followed Tatsuya around the house, opening doors and moving things out of the way to help him walk a little easier simply because he was curious about what he would do. Tatsuya is very cute when he’s sleepy, so Jun couldn’t help but find all of this very endearing, especially when Tatsuya took out a container of blueberries from the fridge and dumped them on the floor.

Jun giggled while he swept them up, and then put Tatsuya back to bed without much difficulty.

Those two instances were all Jun needed to realize that there’s probably a pattern to this. When it happened a third time—when Jun watched Tatsuya fill up six glasses of water, abandon them on the table, and crawl back into bed all on his own—that was when Jun decided he should  _ break the news. _

“You sleepwalk,” he had said conversationally one sunny day. They were laying in a grass patch; school had ended about an hour ago. The back of Jun’s shirt was riding up and his skin itched against the ground. 

Tatsuya lifted his head slightly, pausing in his attempt to open a package of chips. “I do? How do you know that?”

“I’ve seen you do it,” Jun replies, angling the book he’s holding above him a certain way to block the sun from streaming into his eyes. “Three times, actually.”

“ _ Three _ ?” Tatsuya fully sat up. “You saw me sleepwalk three times, and just… watched?” 

“Well, it was kind of cute.” Jun huffs. “Can you blame me? It’s harmless.”

“Not so harmless to my dignity,” Tatsuya mumbles, going back to his chips. The bag rips open with a  _ pop _ !

And despite the proclamations about his  _ dignity  _ and his  _ pride,  _ Tatsuya never truly seemed embarrassed about his sleepwalking. He was content with letting Jun watch, put him back to bed, and then report what had happened the next day. It became sort of a running joke with everyone. Even Katsuya knew, but Jun didn’t tell Tatsuya that. 

Despite all the sleep _ walking _ he did, though, Tatsuya never did any sleep talking. Jun knew from sleepovers with Eikichi what sleep talking was like—or, rather, what  _ annoying  _ sleep talking was like. Eikichi would shout and laugh like a hyena in his sleep and Jun would lay there, wondering if his eye would start twitching, and stare at the ceiling.

At least Tatsuya doesn’t do that. 

* * *

Today they’re on the way home from school. It was the last day of finals for the both of them, and Jun can tell how burnt-out Tatsuya is. He can tell because they’re in Satomi Tadashi, buying popsicles, and Tatsuya is trying to pay for them but cannot get the money out from his wallet because he doesn’t notice he is holding it upside down.

“Here, Tacchi,” Jun whispers, gently turning his wallet around under the cashier’s eerie gaze. 

They leave and Jun carries the box of popsicles in his hands. The sides are always collecting condensation.

“Where are we meeting up again?” Tatsuya asks, rubbing his face with his hands. In celebration of finals being over, the two of them along with Eikichi and Lisa have planned to get together. It’s appropriate, Jun supposes, since the four of them haven’t done something fun with one another in a while, and this  _ is _ supposed to be celebratory.

“Aoba Park,” Jun says, looking at the popsicle box. They’re probably going to melt by the time they get there, but he doesn’t say anything. 

Tatsuya makes a sound like a creaky old boat. “So far away…”

It isn’t that far away, not really, but Jun knows that Tatsuya is tired so he nods and smiles and takes his hand instead of saying anything. Tatsuya complains about how far the walk is the entire time, even though it only takes ten minutes for them to arrive at the park gates. 

The popsicle box is grossly soggy.

Admittedly, they do end up staying at the park longer than Jun had thought they would. A small portion of the afternoon is spent mourning the melted popsicles—though they eat them anyway, because it would be pointless to waste all that sugar and plastic ( _ and my money,  _ Tatsuya had said)—while the rest is spent exploring the park. Jun likes to point out all of the different types of flowers; he knows that they talk, sometimes, and only Tatsuya seems to really believe him nowadays when he says this, but that’s all right.

“You should be a botanist,” Lisa says, reaching out to touch the petals of a kikyo. It’s a beautiful purple color, like part of the sky at sunrise.

Jun shrugs. “You say that to be all the time but my response never changes. I’ve always wanted to be a teacher.”

“Couldn’t you be, like, a botanist teacher? The ones that teach about plants and stuff?”

“Ahaha….” Jun scratches the back of his neck. In a theoretical world, that would be nice. “I’d love to, but it just doesn’t seem very practical. I always figured I’d be a physics or math teacher.”

Eikichi scrunches up his nose. “No offense, but that’s boring as hell.”

Instead of being offended, Jun laughs. None of his friends particularly like math, so Eikichi’s response is to be expected. “I think it’s interesting. Hopefully I’d be able to find a way to convey that interest to others…”

“You could still do botany on the side,” Lisa suggests, and Jun gives a noncommittal smile in response, wanting to drop the conversation. Having conversations about the  _ future _ has always been the equivalent to pressing down on a bruise.

Later that evening, once the sky has turned into a watercolor painting and everyone has thoroughly grumbled about being tired, Tatsuya points to a little cluster of blue flowers from the spot he’s sitting at. 

The flowers dance in the breeze.

“What’s this one?” Tatsuya asks, tilting his head to the side, reminiscent of honest curiosity.

“Forget-me-nots.” Jun squats down next to Tatsuya to look at them. He accidentally plants his knee right in a patch of dirt.

He squints at the flowers. “What do they mean?”

“Ah.” Jun’s expressions softens. “True love. Memories, too.”

There’s nothing wrong with giving a vague answer.

Tatsuya exhales sharply through his nose and glares at the little flowers; he glares at them as they dance. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t reach out to touch them, doesn’t move an inch. The muscles in his face have gone all still.

Looking at forget-me-nots has always made Jun’s heart ache.

* * *

When they get back to Tatsuya’s house, it doesn’t take long for the both of them to change and lay down. Hours of being sweaty and taking exams has left both of them weary enough to not want to do much of anything.

As he almost always does, Tatsuya falls asleep the moment he’s supine. Jun wordlessly covers him with a blanket and picks up a book he’s left next to the bed.

Jun is the type of person to favor nonfiction over fiction; the last fictional book he remembers reading was  _ The Moon Over the Mountain _ . Nowadays he mostly reads books about science. He’s currently reading a collection of physics theories because this particular book has been sitting on his shelf for a while, gathering dust, and he figured it was time he opened it up.

He’s midway through one of the pages when Tatsuya sits up in bed. Even though the lights have been dimmed, Jun can see that his eyes are glazed over, much like the reflection of the moon in water. 

Rain patters on the roof.

“Where are you going?” he asks as Tatsuya stands and heads for the door. Jun sometimes asks Tatsuya questions while he sleepwalks, and although he’s never actually gotten a reply, there’s something about it that’s nice. It’s as though he’s still listening.

Jun follows him out the door and into the kitchen where he usually goes. He watches as Tatsuya takes out a carton of juice from the fridge and attempts to pour it onto the floor. He stops him before he gets to it.

Sleepwalkers tend to stick to patterns of behavior. That’s what Jun noticed after a while, and it’s also what a book he read on it confirmed. Tatsuya’s sleepwalking behavior has been absolutely harmless, and Jun is glad, because he’s read stories about people sleepswimming and sleepdriving and sleepeating things that are poisonous. Tatsuya just tends to try and spill things on the floor. 

And Jun doesn’t mind making sure he doesn’t make a mess. It’s not really a hassle. It’s actually very endearing.

Then again, Jun thinks that just about everything Tatsuya does is endearing, even when he messes up simple math or gets angry at chairs when he accidentally bumps into them. If it were anyone else, Jun would be annoyed.

Tatsuya is an exception.

Jun watches as he mixes an egg and some of the juice together in a bowl. He’s about to stir it with his hands, but Jun gives him a wooden spoon and he uses that instead. 

Waking Tatsuya up is more dangerous than what it’s worth, and every now and then, when Jun puts him back to bed, he gets right back up. He’s learned that sometimes it’s better to let Tatsuya play around until he seems confused enough to go back to sleep.

“What’re you making there?” he asks, and Tatsuya keeps stirring in response. Jun smiles.

“Your brother was telling me how bad of a cook you are the other day,” he continues. “I wasn’t surprised, though, based on your eating habits. He said that once you gave him food poisoning on accident.”

More stirring.

“He was mad about it at the time, but says he thinks it’s pretty funny now.”

More stirring. Jun’s smile falters a little bit. 

Sometimes, when Jun looks at Tatsuya, such an overwhelming sensation of sorrow overcomes him that he has to sit down for a few minutes. It’s nothing he tries to be obvious about, because he doesn’t want Tatsuya to worry about him. And it isn’t that Jun is trying to bottle everything up inside of him—he knows well enough how bad of a habit that is—he just doesn’t want Tatsuya to feel particular concern over something like this.

Something like this.

He grips the edge of the countertop, staring at the surface, trying to keep an eye out on Tatsuya in the meantime. His chest aches, black and blue and purple.

“Come on,” he says, voice all twisted. “I think you’ve done enough mixing.”

This is directed at Tatsuya, but he ends up speaking to the counter instead. 

As if on queue, though, Tatsuya stops what he’s doing and abandons the bowl and wooden spoon. Jun watches as he walks back down the hallway, silently, and hears the sound of Tatsuya’s door sliding open. Jun knows it’s the bedroom door because it makes a very specific squeaking noise that none of the other doors in the house make. 

His room back at home makes a similar noise. Jun prefers sleeping here, though, because Tatsuya’s house has more windows. It’s nice to see the sky. 

It’s also better to be away from home in general.

He takes a deep breath, wipes the tears from his eyes, and dumps the juice and egg mixture down the drain and then rinses the bowl and leaves it in the sink. Tomorrow he can thoroughly clean it.

Jun heads back to the bedroom and lays down next to Tatsuya, who has already resumed his normal sleeping. It’s incredible, Jun thinks, how easy he can sleep. 

He leans over and presses a kiss to Tatsuya’s forehead. He’s a little sweaty for some reason.

Miraculously, this action seems to make Tatsuya wake up. 

“Uh,” he says, “uh.”

Jun touches the top of his head. “Go back to sleep,” he whispers in a way that feels as though he may only be a figment of Tatsuya’s imagination. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“Didn’t wake me up,” Tatsuya mumbles, pulling the blanket up to his nose, and perhaps he’s right, because in an instant he falls back asleep as though nothing had happened at all.

* * *

Tatsuya sleepwalks. Jun watches. Jun watches quietly, always, observant and doting. He is there to pull the blanket back over Tatsuya, and he is there to look out the windows at the stars, and he is always there to wonder if the bitter gap in his chest will ever fully close.

It is like a gap in time. A gap in the universe. Two strings, one fissured and burnt.

Jun will always love Tatsuya, no matter where or who he is.

**Author's Note:**

> have a lot of feelings about p2 so I just wanted to write something very simple to try and alleviate ... said feelings.
> 
> thanks for reading as always!


End file.
